arachnophobia
by archy the cockroach
Summary: finish what you've started. marluxianamine. [PART FOUR.]


thank you gabby, for the idea.

this is the final part. thank you for reading the loop.

* * *

Marluxia groans as she lands down on him again, her pretty body swallowing him whole. Her pale, small breasts bounce with the motion and he can't resist watching. Marluxia is usually dominant, but he can't help but feel powerless when he fucks Naminé.

Or rather, when Naminé fucks him.

She's on top of him, his hands clenching her hips, as she kneels and builds up momentum to thrust herself down on him again. She bends forward, enveloping his soft lips in a kiss. He feels so sick doing this. It was so much easier when Larxene was Naminé.

Naminé moans softly, before uttering the words he'd like to hear most. "I love you."

* * *

And then Marluxia woke up. 

He knows he doesn't actually need to sleep. They like to mimic their own disgusting version of humanity and reality, even though Marluxia feels like he's losing grip on both. He doesn't know what time it is and he can never distinguish if he's every actually awake, or if he's still sleeping.

He pulls himself out of his bed, and as he goes to pull on his cloak, he almost thinks he sees Axel lying there, but he shakes his head and turns for the door.

Larxene, who died quite some time ago, waits for him in the hall. He stands there and stares. She's not there. He continues walking.

He's suddenly in Naminé's modest room, staring at her pretty little girl-flesh. He can feel her wary eyes watch him, and he almost wants to take her right there. She closes her sketchbook. Axel isn't there to protect her now.

She stands, slowly, and he looks at her with delicate eyes. Naminé places her sketchbook on the floor to the side of her stool, and slowly treads towards him. His breath dies in his lungs as her fragile arms circle his waist. He must be dreaming.

She lets her head rest on his lower-chest, and she can feel each shaky breath. He doesn't know what to do, for once. She pulls her blonde cascade away from him, and merely stares at Marluxia. "Why the change of heart?" he asks her, forcing a sarcastic laugh.

She tries to smile, but her lips are slack and she can't even frown. He thinks to leave, and removes her hands. They fall to her sides limply, and she stares up at him. He turns, and his back is to her, but even he can feel dead fingers through his thin jacket. "What heart?"

* * *

Marluxia wakes up. 

He's breathing heavily, and he can still feel pinpricks of fingertips on his spine. He brings himself to his feet, and he moves slowly as he stands. He's undressed—he always sleeps naked—and then suddenly he's in Naminé's room, again, still utterly exposed.

Naminé lets a small gasp escape her lips, as she pushes back her bench, and stumbles towards the wall. He can't control himself and he stalks forward, his large body completely over-shadowing hers. She's blinking back tears and he's already on her, pushing her to the floor, running his tongue over the ivory, silky skin of her neck. She shivers under him, and he tastes the tears that are falling liberally down her white face.

_Silly me. This isn't what_ **you** _wanted.

* * *

_

Marluxia wakes up, again, and he's shuddering and he can taste her salty tears and he's tired and he just wants to stop waking up. He just wants it to stop.

He holds his head in his hands, and he feels his coarse, mahogany hair against his fingertips, and then something changes and it's Naminé's fingers threading through his hair.

She sighs as he leans against her, and she begins to braid a small section of his shagged mane. "I like your hair. Don't listen to what Axel says. You do _not_ have a mullet."

He uses every bit of vigor he has to restrain the smile that's threatening to tug at his lips. She giggles behind him, running her fingers through a weak tangle. "I like your hair more," Marluxia tells her, his eyes suddenly loving the floor. He sits cross-legged in front of her small, kneeling form. He can feel her tiny body pressed up against him from behind. "It's really soft and… well, it's pretty." Marluxia was never very good at giving compliments.

He looks over his shoulder into her smiling visage, and she hugs him from behind. But she fades, and Marluxia wakes up again.

_That was never reality. But you wanted it that way, didn't you?_

"Why are you doing this?" he whispers.

Only the silence hears him.

* * *

He's not really there, Axel notices. Marluxia seems to be more detached as they linger in the library together. Larxene's old books are gathering dust as they lay dejectedly on the table. Axel leans against the book shelf, watching Marluxia as the brunette wanders about the room. 

"What are you doing?" Axel says, pushing himself away from the shelf. If Marluxia were to force sex on him at this point, Axel didn't really care. The man was feeling a little bit stronger, since Marluxia had disappeared into his subconscious. Not to mention that the Keyblade wielder was nearing the top floors of the castle—it wouldn't be long now, until he found Naminé.

And then Marluxia would be left alone, again.

Marluxia hesitates, but turns to face Axel. His eyes are tired, and he gives Axel a look of pure annoyance. "…Just, thinking."

"About what?"

Marluxia didn't reply, and the red-head guardedly approached him. "You weren't thinking about Naminé again, were you?" When Marluxia doesn't respond, Axel knows that he's correct.

"…I only ever think about her," Marluxia replies, almost in a trance. Axel's gaze lingers on the brunette, and his long fingers touch Marluxia's shoulders. He opens his mouth to ask Marluxia something,

_cut the thread and break the chains_

but abruptly, Axel's fingers pinch and the red-head is laughing.

"What, no room for Larxene or me in that thick skull of yours?"

Marluxia doesn't even look at Axel, as the man leaves the library with Larxene's old books, utterly forgotten.

* * *

Marluxia's beginning to hate sleeping. He avoids it completely, now, because he's not required to rest. He's a machine, with bones for clicking gears and white skin for a metallic exterior. 

But, now, he feels himself drifting off into daydreams where he's simply talking to Naminé. Simply being with Naminé. Simply touching Naminé's hair with his spindly fingers. Simply watching Naminé's hands fly over paper. He loves her. Even without a soul, a heart, he loves her.

But he doesn't even know what love is.

* * *

This is the real Naminé, he's sure of it.

She looks like she's tired—the angel has been losing sleep, it appears. Her sketchbook hangs limply in her hands, and he can't make out exactly what the drawing is.

He can hear her knuckles snap as her hands twitch, and she pulls herself to stand. "Marluxia…" she says, and the words fall off of her lips. He can almost see the M in his name tumble to the ground, and shatter into twin V-shapes.

"What were you drawing?" he asks her, almost nonchalantly. She treats him to a weak smile.

"Nothing."

"You look tired."

"I've stayed up late, drawing, lately. But… I can't technically ever be tired."

A Nobody can't ever be a Somebody.

Naminé's image is gone, and Naminé is suddenly Larxene, and then Larxene is Axel and _oh my god, i'm losing my mind._

Marluxia falls to the ground, and the last thing he hears is Naminé's gasp.

* * *

He wakes, and he can see blonde hair and blue eyes and he feels crawling fingers moving in his hair. His eyes open slowly, and Marluxia finds himself staring up at Naminé. His head is rested carefully on her white thighs, and she's slowly combing his hair. 

This is real. This is entirely real.

"What have you been doing… with my thoughts?" he asks. She smiles down at him, and the witch in her slinks out like a disgusting arachnid.

"I've been snapping the links, and re-welding them myself."

He shudders as she pulls, and her smile turns into a look of sadistic joy. "How does it feel, Marluxia? To feel utterly helpless?"

_fade away, fade away_

"She swallowed the spider."

She's taking his cock into her lips, and her hair is blonde, but she's not a little girl she was never a little girl just always a shell just always like you.

"To catch the fly."

Because guilt ate her alive inside.

"Along came a spider."

Axel wasn't a spider.

"And sat down beside her."

Larxene wasn't a spider.

"But, when there's nothing left to burn."

Marluxia stares up at Naminé, and she stops talking, and he lets his own lips form the words. "You have to set yourself on fire." He lets his eyes flutter shut, and the spider has caught a butterfly in its trap as Naminé leans down to kiss his eyelids.

_fade away. you're just another link in the chain.

* * *

_

"So, I guess he's finally dead, then."

Naminé is crying. Axel doesn't know why. All Marluxia ever did was abuse her little body. Axel doesn't cry for Marluxia. He's never felt anything for the man, other than utter resentment. Marluxia used him, and Axel used Marluxia in return.

Oh, what webs we weave.

Larxene's books are on the floor, and Axel somehow feels that she's in Naminé's room as well. They watch the Keyblade master's shell, together, and Naminé knows that Axel will be leaving soon. Where are you going? To find something.

Axel suddenly grimaces as he sees a black dot scuttle against the white floors. He quickly brings his foot down on the speck, and Naminé looks at him questioningly. "What was that for?" she asks through her tears.

Axel's already leaving the room. "I hate spiders."

Axel closes the door behind him.

Naminé grins.

* * *

Naminé moves her fingers together, indexes touching thumbs. She's tired of drawing and re-drawing. She pre-occupies herself, and the fingers are like chains. 

"The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout."

It was Marluxia's fault. She didn't ask for her powers.

"Down came the rain and washed the spider out."

Kairi would want Naminé's part of her heart back, soon.

"Up came the sun and dried up all the rain."

Her fingers continue to link together, and she can see Roxas and Axel smiling at her from Twilight Town.

"And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again."

She moves her eraser to the paper.

_set the traps._

She needs no exterminator to get rid of herself.


End file.
